


always running

by civillove



Series: seblaine week 2k18 [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Emotional Abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 08:39:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15602571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Seblaine week 2018 – Running Away AU – 3 times Blaine ran away and 1 time he ran towards somethingBlaine has always found running to be therapeutic. His feet hitting the pavement, over and over in patterned strokes, his lungs desperately trying to fill up with oxygen until his chest feels too warm, like it might pop from exertion—it’s one of those things that always makes him feel alive. Running has always filled him up with that sensation; the act of ‘getting away’, of putting space between himself and whatever he wants to get away from.





	always running

**Author's Note:**

> First things first: 1) this is very AU in every sense of the abbreviation. 2) there are some adult themes in this fic that include: physical and emotional abuse. If you’re uncomfortable with those themes, please keep yourself safe!

 

\--

1)

Blaine has always found running to be therapeutic. His feet hitting the pavement, over and over in patterned strokes, his lungs desperately trying to fill up with oxygen until his chest feels too warm, like it might pop from exertion—it’s one of those things that always makes him feel _alive._ Running has always filled him up with that sensation; the act of ‘getting away’, of putting space between himself and whatever he wants to get away from.

There’s a thrill that works its way down his spine, every time, that tells him he could run and not come back. He can just keep going and going until he ends up somewhere new. Somewhere where people don’t know him and there’s nothing expected from him either.

He could start fresh.

But unfortunately he also knows how unrealistic that is and he always runs back home.

Back towards things he wants to stay away from.

\--

Blaine tears off his apron as he exits the Lima Bean, running a hand over his face. He needs to stop picking up ten hour shifts when he has classes the next day. He’s exhausted and the last thing he wants to do is go home but if he doesn’t get any rest and take notes from a few online lectures he’ll be completely unprepared for tomorrow.

The sun is just starting to go down, hints of purples and pink filling the sky as he stuffs his apron into his bookbag. It’s beautiful and as he breathes in deep he picks up hints of rain that is maybe on the horizon. Ironic because, in theory, red sky at night usually means tomorrow’s weather is going to be decent.

But he guesses he shouldn’t put that past this shit hole.

“Done already, Anderson?” He turns to see Sebastian walking towards him. “I was just coming to see you.”

“I told you when I was working.” He throws back, “You know how to tell time, yeah?”

He’s known Sebastian for a long time, not quite since they were kids but they’ve gone to school together since they were fifteen years old. Sebastian’s family moved from New York and Blaine doesn’t remember the moment when they grew close but he _does_ remember Sebastian trying to hit on him with a rose and a pick-up line in French.

“My sister needed help with algebra.”  Sebastian starts following him away from the café, “Know any _acute_ angles around here?”

Blaine rolls his eyes but he does smile, “You know that geometry right?”

“Huh,” The taller pretends to think, seemingly thrown off guard by this information.

“You’re actually really terrible at pick-up-lines.” Blaine pauses at his car, “You know that?”

He unlocks it and throws his backpack into the backseat before closing the door, fiddling with his keys as Sebastian sticks his hands in his pockets and rolls back on his heels.

“That’s not what John was saying last night.”

“His name was _John?”_ Blaine scrunches his nose and sits in the driver’s seat, starting his car.

“Jake, no…Joe?” Sebastian frowns, “Maybe it was John, I don’t know, the point being is that he left out my bedroom window completely satisfied.”

Blaine puts his hands on the wheel and stares through the windshield. He should drive home, do his classwork, get some sleep. But that fluttering itch starts working its way down his spine and something like panic and anxiety grip his stomach, _hard._ He doesn’t want to go home.

He never wants to go home.

“Want to get out of here?” Blaine says suddenly, looking up at Sebastian who’s still standing outside his car.

The taller pauses and glances across the parking lot to where his car probably is but nods, rounding the vehicle to get in the passenger seat. And this is what’s great about Sebastian; he can read people, especially Blaine, like words on the palm of his hand. An open book. He senses that Blaine needs to get away, to drive until they run out of gas, to _go somewhere anywhere_ that’s not here.

As soon as Sebastian closes the door, Blaine punches the pedal and they drive out of the Lima Bean parking lot.

\--

There’s this wooded area just past Lima Community College and they park right outside a gathering of trees and walk through. Blaine comes here sometimes to think because when you walk just far enough you come to an open space of rolling hills and grass and trees in the distance that makes you feel like you’ve somehow gotten yourself far away. Maybe even lost.

There’s no buildings, no artificial light, barely even cell service. Sebastian always makes jokes about ax murderers taking their victims here but there’s something calming about the silence, about being cut off from the rest of Ohio.

Blaine lays down in the grass, looking up at the sky, Sebastian joining him on his stomach. He’s playing with dried leaves; Blaine can hear the crinkling near his ear.

“You miss New York?”

Sebastian smiles, “Sometimes.” His fingers preoccupy themselves by moving to Blaine’s hair, twirling curls every so often.

When Sebastian’s father lost his job, they couldn’t afford to live in upper Manhattan anymore. Sometimes he wants to ask him what kind of a culture shock that was—to go from having everything to having nothing in Lima, Ohio. Blaine’s not so sure he could have done the same.

He wishes he were closer with his brother, Cooper, so he could run away to L.A. and live in his expensive penthouse.

“You ever think about going back?”

Sebastian brushes his thumb over Blaine’s forehead, “I _am_ going back. When I finish community college I’m going to get a master’s; just need to pick a borough.” He pauses a moment and licks his lips, “You could do it too, you know.”

“What? Leave Lima? Get a big, fancy masters in Manhattan or Brooklyn?”

The taller shrugs, his gaze tracing over Blaine’s face, eyes following the bridge of his nose and settling on his lips.

“You don’t owe him anything.” Sebastian whispers and he doesn’t have to ask him to clarify to know who he’s talking about.

Blaine sighs and closes his eyes, takes a deep breath of the world around him and listens to birds chirping and bees buzzing near his head. He knows Sebastian is right but sometimes he feels like there’s this invisible string wrapped around his neck that pulls, tight enough to choke him, and connects him to his parents. As much as he wants to leave, run away, stay gone…he can’t. He can’t find it within himself to cut it loose.

He leans up on his elbows, turning his head to look at Sebastian. They’re close, maybe a breath away from one another, their noses brushing as he speaks: “No, but I owe you everything, don’t I?”

Sebastian smiles and they lean in to kiss, a soft fond noise leaving Blaine’s lips. He presses themselves closer together despite the awkward angle just to kiss him longer; the warm sensation he always feels when he’s with him working down his chest and into his belly, filling him up.

Blaine feels whole, complete, it’s the only time he never feels like running away.

They pull back when they need to breathe and when he hears thundering in the distance. A soft sigh leaves his lips and he allows his eyes to stay closed, just for a little, leaning his forehead against Sebastian’s shoulder. They need to leave soon and good things must come to end, as always.

Sebastian turns his head and presses a kiss to Blaine’s jaw. “You want to come back to mine for dinner?”

He wants to. Desperately wants to but…

“I have to get home. I have an exam tomorrow and…” And his father needs him but the words hang open in the air.

Sebastian hums in response and Blaine doesn’t need to explain. When he pulls away Sebastian kisses his forehead, the bridge of his nose and his lips once more before they get up and walk back to the car.

He lives in those small moments and gestures for the rest of the night.

\--

2)

After all these years, Blaine feels like he should know the warning signs.

When his mother died in a car crash when he was eleven it didn’t take his father very long to crawl into a bottle. Cooper was there for a little while, looking after him, but he eventually left for L.A. to go to college and pursue his acting career. Which left Blaine alone to figure things out.

His father had never been a violent man but alcohol and grief are one of the most toxic combinations Blaine’s ever known. It’s not that his father blames Blaine for his mother’s death but sometimes he can’t stand to look at him; he looks so much _like_ her with his hazel eyes and curly black hair.

Sebastian’s right, Blaine doesn’t owe his father anything, not after being on the receiving end of terrible nights with broken glass and broken bones. But even after everything, he doesn’t want to move out of his childhood home—that’s where some of his best memories are and that’s the only place where he can still feel his mother’s presence. Not to mention the money he makes at the Lima Bean is being saved for his future, an idea in the back of his mind that he’s eventually going to run away to. Not sure where and not sure how far but _away_ from here. He can’t use the money he’s saved to get himself an apartment or hotel room in Lima…it’s just not going to happen.

And he’s sure as hell not becoming some sort of burden on Sebastian by staying at his place.

Baine lets himself in his front door and sets his bookbag down, pausing as he sees empty glass bottles on the ground in the hallway right before the kitchen doorway. Warning signs, and yet, he’s too tired to care. That’ll be his mistake. He knows he should just go out the front door and sleep in his car but he goes to pick the bottles up and put them in the recycling bin.

Even though he pours every bit of alcohol that he can find down the drain, his father always ends up getting his hands on more.

He can feel him before he has a chance to turn around.

“Where the fuck were you?”

Blaine sighs, “Work. I told you that this morning.”

“Dinner wasn’t made.”

He chews the inside of his cheek and motions to the bottles he’s just thrown out. “Looks like you’ve already eaten.”

“Don’t talk back to me,” He snaps and Blaine swallows, avoiding eye-contact. “Make dinner and clean this place up.”

He knows he shouldn’t, there’s something inside of him _screaming_ for him to stop…but sometimes can’t. He’s so tired and he wants to push himself over that edge, toes hanging over, itching for control that he doesn’t have.

“What, this liquid diet not enough for you?”

It’s a mistake as soon as it leaves his mouth but it’s too late—his father grabs him by the back of his neck and slams him into a nearby wall, making china shudder in the cupboards.

“What did you just say to me?”

His entire body is pressing against Blaine’s, making it hard to breathe. He squirms as claustrophobia seeps into his bones, he tries pushing against the wall but it barely helps.

“Get off me!”

He kicks the doorframe and it’s just enough leverage to knock his father back a few steps and Blaine _knows_ it’s coming before he even has a chance to turn around. He’s hit hard enough to make his teeth rattle with the back of a hand, the wedding ring he still wears cutting his lip.

“You _ungrateful—”_

But his father doesn’t have a chance to reach for Blaine again because he’s _running;_ running so fast that his shoes skid off the tile on the kitchen floor. He makes it down the hall and out the front door, his father following him to the porch—

“Get back here!”

He trips and lands hard on his hands, gravel biting and cutting his palms but he stumbles up and keeps going, _running, running, running—_

Blaine doesn’t stop until he gets down the street, until he’s convinced his father isn’t following him. His lungs feel like they might pop and he spits blood into grass before his legs, wobbly as they are, take him to the one place he knows he can go.

Ten minutes later he’s knocking on Sebastian’s door. It’s late and he feels terrible but he can’t go back home. He doesn’t even have his phone to call him and let him know he’s coming. Sebastian opens up on the third knock and stares at him, controlled anger tightening a muscle in his jaw.

“Son of a bitch.” He spits, gently pulling Blaine inside.

“You have to put ten dollars in the swear jar!” His sister calls from the living room and Sebastian yells something in French over his shoulder.

Blaine isn’t that good with the language but it’s definitely something along the lines of ‘mind your own business and go to your room’.

“Sorry,” He whispers, “I know it’s late.”

Sebastian shakes his head and cups his cheek, wincing at the cut on his lip. “No, it’s fine. My parents are on a business trip. Unfortunately you still have to put up with my nosy-ass sister but,”

“I can _hear you.”_ She shrieks back, which just makes Blaine smile but God, it hurts to do so.

“It’s fine.” Because really, it is, anything is better than home.

The taller sighs and takes him upstairs to the bathroom connected with Sebastian’s bedroom, sitting him on the long sink and searching underneath it for his first-aid kit. He plops the container onto the counter next to Blaine’s thigh and takes out antiseptic wipes and a few cotton balls.

Sebastian tilts his chin to get a good look at the cut on his lip. He doesn’t need to look in the mirror to know he’s bruised along his cheekbone, he can feel it, and winces a little when the other’s thumb strokes his cheek. He sighs into the touch and lets Sebastian clean the cut out with steady, practiced fingers.

“You hurt anywhere else?” He asks; his voice is gentle, soft but he can pick up the underheated tones of pure anger. Blaine’s had to stop him a few times from going _back_ to his house and punching his father, because how is that supposed to help anything?

“No.”

“He didn’t kick you?”

He swallows, “Not this time. I fell,” He opens his palms. They sting a little but they’re not too bad. Sebastian glances down at them and gently threads his fingers through his own. “But nothing else.”

“I should get you some ice for your lip.”

Blaine squeezes his hands despite the fact that it hurts his own a little; he doesn’t want him to leave. It’s comforting having him so close, practically against him, the heat from his body seeps into his own.

“It’s okay.”

Sebastian scoffs but it’s not nasty, even though his words bite, “Nothing about this is okay.”

He nods gently and straightens his back, pulling Sebastian closer by opening his legs. They’re almost eye-level thanks to Blaine sitting on the counter and he keeps their hands joined before he presses a soft series of kisses along his jawline before finding his lips.

“It’s okay if I stay here?” He asks after a few moments; even though the invitation is unspoken, he still likes to make sure.

Sebastian smirks and pulls back to gently tug Blaine off the sink and lead him to his bedroom. “I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.”

Blaine smiles a little, toing off his shoes and unbuttoning his jeans to lie down in Sebastian’s bed which is tucked between a wall. He likes that because when Sebastian lies down next to him, it’s almost like he’s caged in—a wall against his back, Sebastian against his front, holding him in place.

It’s about safety, deep down, he knows that’s what anchors him in place and prevents nightmares. Sebastian closes his bedroom door and pulls the covers back so they can slip inside. He can feel his eyes on him before a hand strokes through his messy curls.

“You need to call the cops on him next time, Blaine.”

The shorter shakes his head, “What’s a night in jail really going to do?” Besides, he’s tried. He’s tried reports and emergency rooms and rehab and nothing sticks.

Sebastian lets his hand fall to the other’s neck, his thumb tracing the underside of his jaw. “You can’t keep going back there for this to happen.”

Blaine runs his thumb over the cuts on his hands and lets his eyes fall to Sebastian’s lips. It’s dark in his bedroom but he can still see the outline of him thanks to the moon seeping through his blinds. He thinks he’d probably know every inch of him even in the dark.

“He’s still my father, Sebastian.” But his voice isn’t as strong as he wants it to be. He wants that word, _father,_ to mean something—and in every other context it does. But he’s afraid he says it so often that it’s lost it’s meaning, it just sounds like an excuse.

He hates that he’s trembling; a by-product from the adrenaline rush leaving his body. He’ll never admit to how scared he feels sometimes, he knows what’s on Sebastian’s mind because he thinks it every so often too. How many more times until something happens that’s irreversible?

Sebastian draws him into his arms and holds him, his hand working circles up and down his spine while his lips rest against his forehead. He pretends not to notice when he starts crying.

\--

3)

Sometimes he loses himself, runs too deep into the metaphoric rabbit hole because it’s warm and comforting and he feels safe. He forgets that he can’t stay there. He needs to stop going to college parties because they always end up the same way.

Blaine used to go to these things when he first started college because in Lima there weren’t many social events where one could meet people. He joined a few clubs and participated in campus events but felt like he was missing a big piece of the experience by not going to parties. So he started, to make friends; nothing else.

Except…he’s not sure when it shifted from meeting new people into going as an escape. He’d have a few drinks and he’d dance, play beer pong or even attempt a keg stand (spoiler, he’s not very good) and sometimes he’d smoke if someone offered.

But he never got drunk because his father was a bad enough example and he always had to head home to take care of him regardless of when the party ended.

Though this time, he hasn’t been home in a few days since he’s staying at Sebastian’s until his parents come home. One beer turns into three, which gets amplified with shots and a good time and before he knows it.

He’s drunk.

Blaine’s sort of disgusted in himself though he’s not sure if he wants to vomit because of that or because he had one too many tequila shots. He hates, and yet kind of loves, that it feels like he's running away without his legs moving him anywhere.

Except maybe…upstairs.

This guy, no idea what his name is, but he’s tall, muscular and blonde and he’s pushing him towards the stairs of the house they’re in. And Blaine? Blaine doesn’t really care, it kinda feels like he’s walking on clouds but he barely reaches the destination without tripping over his own feet.

It takes him a moment to realize why he doesn’t slam into the carpet because, oh, someone’s caught his arm and is holding him up.

“Come on, let’s go.” And it’s…it’s Sebastian. He scrunches his nose.

The meaty blonde dude takes offence, “Hey man, get your own.”

“Fuck off,” Sebastian snaps, “Go hump something else.” Before dragging Blaine outside.

The shorter groans and leans into Sebastian as they walk outside and to the sidewalk, he isn’t sure where they’re going because the entire world is spinning on its axis.

“Stop, I’m sick.” Blaine complains, bending over at his waist but he doesn’t throw up.

“What were you thinking?” Sebastian asks and his voice is grating. “I mean, it’s one thing to fuck around at a party but _that guy?_ At least have some class.”

“I can’t tell if you’re angry or jealous.” Blaine tries to smile but it feels warped on his face.

It’s not like him and Sebastian ever tried to take the next steps with one another; Blaine honestly has _no_ idea what they are together. They’ve always been close, sometimes they hold hands and kiss and they’re there for one another. Blaine loves Sebastian, he does, but what does the word ‘love’ really mean? They’re not dating because he never thought Sebastian was the dating type and yet they don’t _like_ seeing one another with anyone else.

So they’re stuck in this limbo-type phase where neither of them are very happy.

“Please,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, “You wish. I could have anyone lifting their ass in the air for me in that house right now but instead I’m taking care of you.”

Blaine scoffs, finally trusting himself to stand upright without swaying. “No one said you had to.”

An exasperated noise leaves Sebastian’s throat as he looks towards the sky, “ _Right_ because you’re so capable of making stellar decisions right now. We both know if you went upstairs with that guy you would have regretted it.”

Blaine scrunches his nose; is he really that predictable or does Sebastian just know him _that_ well? Either way, something starts to crawl under his skin and fester hotly, he doesn’t like sounding as if he’s some sort of burden. This is why he didn’t want to stay with Sebastian in the first place.

He reaches for him, wrapping his hand around Blaine’s upper arm. “Come on, we’re going home.”

Blaine pulls back, “No, you go.”

He can see this unfold as if he’s a bystander, Sebastian’s shoulders starting to pinch in frustration. “Don't fight me on this Blaine, you're drunk, you're coming home with me.”

He laughs sharply and doesn’t like the sound, words flowing out of him before he can stop it. “Since when are _you_ the one that has the voice of reason Mr. All-night-out-at-Scandals?”

“Since you were two seconds away from faceplanting in there.” He reaches for him again, “Let’s go.”

Blaine side-steps him, intending on going back inside the house. “No.”

“Blaine, I mean it.”

“Leave me alone, Sebastian,” Blaine slurs over his shoulder and of course (of course) he stumbles up the steps. “I’m fine.”

And then Sebastian hits him where he knows it’ll hurt the most because that’s what he does, that’s what he’s _good_ at—knowing someone’s weakness and going right for the jugular. The sneer is evident on his face even though Blaine isn’t looking at him, he can hear it in his voice.

“Oh right, is that what your father says after a few drinks?”

Blaine whirls around so fast he almost falls back down the steps but he _pushes_ Sebastian’s chest and screams, “ ** _Don’t_** _.”_ so loud that he feels like he might wake the next door neighbors.

He’s pointing at him and shaking, breathing a little heavy. How can Sebastian go there? What, just because he's having a good time? Letting off a little steam? _One_ time doesn't make him his father.

Sebastian swallows and looks away from him, letting out a slow breath between his lips. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair.”

Blaine bites the inside of his cheek, hard, so he doesn’t cry. He stares at him and he’s not sure how long they stand there, quiet, the muffled sounds of a party going on behind him.

“All you do is run away B,” Sebastian sticks his hands in his pockets, like he needs something for his hands to do so he doesn’t reach out to him. “Why not try running towards something instead?”

Blaine watches Sebastian leave, he doesn’t try to force him to come home again and his legs shake to the point where his knees give out and he sinks to the last step. He sits there for a long time, thinking, wishing he could go to a home where his mother was still alive.

He leans his head against the railing and waits for the sidewalk to stop spinning before he decides to walk, a sinking sensation settling into his bones because…Sebastian’s right. He’s just never thought about it that way.

He’s so good at running away that he never thought to try and go towards something that mattered.

\--

+1)

He stays at Sebastian’s house even when his parents come home. They’re sympathetic of course but don’t get involved and that’s okay with Blaine. They don’t talk about the other night, mostly because Blaine’s hungover the next day and Sebastian’s been avoiding him. He refuses to let it stay like this though because his relationship with him, no matter how complicated or messy as it may seem, is the only thing in his life that isn’t toxic.

So he corners him in the bathroom when he’s getting ready for classes, slipping inside the door and letting it close behind him.

“Kind of busy.” Sebastian mumbles, still half asleep. He’s just finished brushing his teeth and has the shower running. It’s already distracting that he doesn’t have a shirt on, standing in boxer briefs but Sebastian’s given him no other choice.

“You going to talk to me some other time?” Blaine points out and the taller stays quiet, not looking at him, fiddling with his towel that’s on the sink.

Silence fills the room like steam from the shower, slightly suffocating, fogging up the mirror. He just has to do this; yank the Band-Aid off—

“I know you’re still upset with me…”

Sebastian shakes his head, turning to face him. “I’m not upset with you, I just…I shouldn’t have said those things comparing you to your father.”

And as much as they hurt, “You were right.”

Sebastian’s green eyes meet his own, there’s regret there, guilt too and he can see he’s going to open his mouth to tell Blaine _no_ he wasn’t right—

“You were.” He says again and takes a step towards him. “And I’m scared sometimes, okay? That I’ll end up just like him.”

Sebastian closes the distance between them, gently taking one of his hands into his own. “Hey, no,” He says softly, running his thumb over his knuckles. “You could never be that.”

He shrugs his one shoulder, looking down at their hands. “My father didn’t used to be this way. Circumstances mixed with grief and too much alcohol, it pushed him to become someone else.”

“But that’s not who _you_ are,” Sebastian stresses, “I know your dad got dealt a bad hand and it changed him but regardless of everything you’ve been through, it’s not going to change _you.”_

He wants to believe that, he _does,_ so desperately but…

“You are warm and sweet and kind. You love with your whole heart even when you’re hurting and despite being a very large pain in the ass,” Blaine smiles a little, can’t help it, “You are wonderful. Understand? Nothing’s going to change that.”

Blaine is overwhelmed with emotion, he can feel it flooding his chest to the point of it overflowing. He blames the smothering steam in the room for his eyes watering and propels himself forward to kiss Sebastian in response. A surprised noise leaves the other’s lips but it’s not unwelcome, he draws him closer as they kiss and when he realizes they’re backing up towards the shower he starts to shed layers.

Sebastian’s fingers dig into his skin and a soft moan leaves his mouth when there’s no fabric left between them, body heat kissing body heat. He helps Blaine into the shower and pulls him close when they’re under the stream, mouths hungry and hands wandering.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing the water.” Blaine smiles up at him, curls wet and sticking to his forehead.

“Oh you know me, super concerned about the environment.” He winks. “Shared showers are always on my list.”

\--

A few weeks later they’re lying in Sebastian’s bed, there’s a movie on but Blaine’s not really watching it. Actually, he’s on his stomach trying not to fall asleep as the other reads some odds and ends for a lecture he has tomorrow. A soft sigh leaves his lips as Sebastian’s fingers end up in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“You tired?” He asks, voice soft, eyes not lifting from what he’s reading.

Blaine makes a noise in response before yawning, “That’s not helping either,” He mumbles, referring to the hand in his hair.

Sebastian moves to set his notes down on his bedside table before lying down, his arm stretching along Blaine’s back. He lifts his shirt and slips his hand inside, working circles along his spine.

“Your notes are done?”

“Done for tonight.” Sebastian leans against the pillow, pressing a kiss to Blaine’s hair. “I need to tell you something.”

Blaine cracks an eye open at that, staring up at him. “That sounds vaguely ominous.”

He smirks, “The Manhattan master’s program? I got in.” God, of course he did and he hopes Sebastian can see how proud he is, regardless of being tired.

Leaning up, he gives Sebastian a kiss, “I’m so happy for you.”

“I want you to come with me.”

He blinks at him a moment, not expecting that one. “To New York? What exactly would I do there? Become a housewife?” He’s joking, a smirk tugging the ends of his mouth but…he’s got a point. What would he _do_ there while Sebastian is getting his masters?

“Anything,” Sebastian answers. “I just want you there with me.”

Blaine watches him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Those words Sebastian said to him keep ringing in his mind about running. And while he isn’t sure what he’d end up doing and there’s currently no plan…it’d be something new and fresh and it feels _good_ accepting that idea with open arms.

He can’t think of anything else he’d rather do.

So he nods and presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before his lips. “I’ll come with you.”

Sebastian grins and kisses him in earnest, pressing him back against the bed and covering his body with his own. Blaine cups his face, lacing their legs together, his arms wrapping around his waist to keep their bodies together.

As they kiss Blaine can’t help but agree. It _does_ feel better to run towards something than run away.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! I have a tumblr: blainesebastian, feel free to stop by and say hi! :)


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